


Body of Years

by SandrC



Category: Join the Party (Podcast)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Body Swap, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, If you love them hurt them, MY BRAND, Panic Attacks, Stream of Consciousness, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 06:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: It's amazing how easy it is to lie to yourself when you aren't yourself.It's amazing how hard it is to lie to others when you are Other.It's amazing how fragile you feel when your skin turns to stone and your heart starts to beat and your blood boils young.It's amazing how terrific being you really is.





	Body of Years

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, hey there! My name is Sandr and I love causing emotional distress by way of character pieces. This is a three-part series about how to break your favorite Jailbird.
> 
> This year has been a fucking disaster but...man am I glad it's almost over. Consider this the year of the Mother Mother mood.
> 
> Hope y'all like it. It's super unbetaed. Sorry but like...nah.
> 
> Edit: nah, just one chapter. It's fine. I'm fine.

"O _kay_. This is... _something_." TR8-C stared as Inara surveyed the scene. Surveyed... _them_...

" _I—_ " TR8-C started to say, then stopped. No. That was _wrong_. _All_ this was wrong. _He_ was wrong...Sound. Taste. Feeling.

... _feeling_...

"No, no. Let's take just one moment before we jump to any conclusions. Nothing hasty." Inara said.

TR8-C could say with _absolute_ affirmation that the voice was Inara's and the body was Inara's, but the words—?

Those were _Johnny's_.

" **UM...WHAT THE FUCK?!** " _That_. That was _another_ thing that was wrong. That was another worry. That was another.. _.problem_.

Because TR8-C was not the one that spoke but—

that was _his voice_.

That was his voice but _not_ his _words_.

" _That's_ —" TR8-C started to say and then stopped; because he figured out what was wrong. He had _really_ figured out what was _actually_ wrong. With _him_. With _every_ one of the Jailbirds. With his _friends_.

Because _his_ words were said with _Johnny's_ voice and _Johnny's_ words were said with _Inara's_ mouth and TR8-C could _see himself_. That meant that, logically, he was _not_ himself and thusly, neither were his friends.

" _Oh_..." He—Johnny—TR8-C- _as_ -Johnny, had never sounded more small. More frail. More... _less_.

" _Roll call!"_ Johnny- _as_ -Inara commanded. While TR8-C was trying to find his center and calm down— _why did his chest hurt?_ It was hard to breathe?! Were non-warforged _supposed_ to hear their heartbeats in their ears?—Johnny seemed nonplussed. "This is Johnny, in case you couldn't tell."

" **UM...I'M INARA, IN CASE YOU COULDN'T TELL** ," Inara- _as_ -TR8-C said in a voice that was very like his but wrong _wrong **wrong!!!!!**_

Johnny looked to TR8-C with furrowed brows that looked out of place on his normally cheery and wild face. "Tracey?"

"Present." He suddenly felt very self-aware of how odd it was for Johnny's voice to be so much of a mezzo-soprano and how much he could feel both Johnny and Inara's gazes on him. He wanted to shrink in on himself. He wanted to be so, _so_ small. He wanted to stop. He wanted it to _stop_. He wanted _them_ to _stop_.

Light, just _stop_. _Stop. **Stop!**_

(please)

" **OKAYYY**?" Inara seemed to struggle with emoting properly as a warforged, but seemed to get across her anxiety well enough. _His_ anxiety? _Their_ —?! What even _would_ —???

"Okay. All present and accounted for. _That's_ at least fortuitous. Someone else could be amongst us but—since all of us are here—no problem at all!" Johnny smiled his— _her???_ —self assured smile at them.

(TR8-C was not assured. _Why_ was TR8-C not assured? Wrong wrong _wrong wrong **wrong!**_ )

" **DOESN'T EXPLAIN WHAT'S UP WITH THIS THOUGH** ," Inara rebutted, gesturing to all of her. _Him_? Fuck.

" _True_ ," Johnny drew the word out long and slow, "but it's at least a _start_. We can muddle through this, I'm sure of it."

That wasn't reassuring.

" **SO WE'VE SWITCHED BODIES?** " Inara asked. " **LIKE SOME SORT OF FANTASY FANTASY NOVEL?** "

"Probably? Maybe _souls_ or _minds_ instead of bodies, but the concept remains the same." Johnny shrugged. "What matters now is solving the matter at hand. Fixing... _this_ ," he gestured to all of him. _Her_. _**Fuck**_.

" **COULD YOU ASK THE LIGHT? IT SEEMS TO HAVE A GOOD CHUNK OF ANSWERS. MAYBE IT CAN FIX US!** " Inara nodded. Her— _his_ —face lit up. _Literally_. Her warforged eyes lit up a bright cyan. TR8-C didn't know his eyes did that. _Huh_...

(The room was spinning and going fuzzy and black and _black_ and _too too_ small and he was short and soft and _soft_ and hurt and _hurt_ and _it's so hard to breathe!!!!_ )

"Insofar as the Undying Light— _bright and unyielding, may it illuminate our way_ —can help us; the Undying Light does indeed help those that help _themselves_ so...," a deflecting-is-not-the-same-as-lying Johnny-grin was all over Inara's face _and_ —

( _Light_ it was so dark. _Is_ so dark. Dark _dark **dark**._ His chest hurts and is _tight_ and he's just _too small_. _Too too_ small. An eggshell with fleshy insides. _Too too_ small. _Too too_ fragile. Broken _broken **broken**_. Not right. Broken. Dead. _Wrong_. **_Wrong_**. Please don't destroy me again! I don't want to be alone.)

—"if we can at least figure out the catalyst, we can see if the Light can give us... _guidance_." Johnny reached out for his Staff and...

TR8-C realized that he was holding Johnny's Staff and hastily shoved it into Johnny's hands. He tried to not look at how his own hands looked so much like Johnny's or how Johnny's hands weren't dwarfed by his. He felt—

 _He felt_ —

Something inside of him hurt and he didn't know _what_.

(broken)

The Light inside of Johnny's staff flickered slightly at his touch. Johnny normally had such an easy way with the Light but Johnny seemed to...

Johnny's mouth pinched in a very not-Inara way. TR8-C felt Johnny— _his_ chest clench and he...

fucking

_hated_

this.

... _fuck_...

" _Well_ now...," Johnny hummed. Inara stared intently at him and it was so fucked up to see his—TR8-C's—mouth set like that. Confused. _Concerned_. Fuck. " _That_ seems to have gone a bit pear-shaped."

" **NO SHIT JOHNNY?** " Inara retorted. " **I'M TRACEY AND TRACEY'S YOU AND YOU'RE ME. THAT'S A _LITTLE_ MORE THAN PEAR-SHAPED**."

"How about we calm down for a moment and—"

" **DID YOU KNOW A MOMENT FEELS LIKE A LOT TO A WARFORGED, CAUSE IT DOES! THIS HAS BEEN _SEVERAL_ MOMENTS OF FUCKERY FOR A BIT AND I THINK I MIGHT BE GOING _ABSOLUTELY_ BATSHIT**!" Inara gestured about to the whole of her fuck-all. It was better to use their natural pronouns. No point in fucking up anything else.

"Hm...," Johnny rubbed his chin again. This was wrong and bad and TR8-C was—!

(There was/is/will be a fucking disaster in which TR8-C does not understand anything and _and **and and—!**_ )

"Can _I_...can I leave for a _moment_? I...I need to...pee?" Lies, yes, a liar. TR8-C is a liar is becoming a liar will always be a liar first and foremost and he probably does have to pee _but_ —

He needed to breathe. He needed to take a break and scream and cry and rage and _rage_ and **_rage_**.

Everything is _too too_ fast and _too too_ much and he and he and **_he_** —!

And he _lies_.

(How apparent were his emotions, now that he had Johnny's face? How easy to tell if he was twisting the truth to fit his needs?)

" _Ohhhhhkayyyy_?" Johnny squinted at TR8-C as if he was trying to discern what he was up to. "Do you need any _help_ —?"

" _Nothanks'llbefine_!" TR8-C turned and stumbled awkwardly out the door towards the bathroom of the Kiko castle. One of them. He didn't plan to actually visit the bathroom, but appearances and all that.

(Their eyes boring holes in the back of his head and he wants to cry but his emotions are raw glass caught in his throat and he just wants to stop. He wants all this to stop. It hurts and he hates it.)

TR8-C booked it out of the room, stepping into Kiko castle as fast as Johnny's legs can carry him. It's not fast, as Johnny is short and wears terrible footwear, but he tries. _Left right left left right_. He tries to lose himself in the turns of the older building _but_...

It's hard when he's being followed by himself.

Coz even though Inara is currently in his body, she still has some sneaky tricks up her sleeve.

(Even if she can't be _half_ as stealthy.)

"I _know_ you're there," he said, and _Light_ his voice was so not like Johnny's and it tasted of copper and bile. Acid reflux with pretty metal shoved in his throat.

" **I'M NOT REALLY BUILT FOR STEALTH RIGHT NOW, AM I?** " Inara smiled sheepishly as she rounded the corner to face TR8-C. " **YOU'RE NOT A GOOD LIAR NORMALLY, BUT WITHOUT THIS IMPASSIVE FACE, IT'S REALLY OBVIOUS. YOU DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE, DID YOU?** "

"I wanna be alone right now..." he sounded so pitiful. Light above, it was like listening to a child. Sad. Pathetic. _Painful_.

Inara (because tying their selves to a body made thinking about what had happened and who he was too painful) waffled, shifting from one foot to the other. She towered above him but there was a whole other person's space between them. She was letting him breathe.

He'd almost forgotten to breathe.

" **LOOK** ," she hummed, " **I...I THINK I GET IT? LIKE...THIS HAS GOTTA BE HARD FOR YOU. GOING FROM...THIS,** " she gestured to all of her with one hand, " **TO JOHNNY. LIKE, I THINK I REALLY GET IT. MORE THAN YOU'D THINK**." She still hovered just outside of his comfort zone, respectfully giving him the space he needed _but_ —

She seemed _small_. Just like he _felt_ small, she seemed to have pulled in on herself to make herself smaller. A wave of protective instinct surged through TR8-C. He gestured for her to sit down.

She did, the ground thudding beneath her weight. He folded his legs and sat down next to her, within head-patting distance. Close. _Intimately_ so.

Silence was king for a bit. _Just_ a bit though. Long enough to make time become uncomfortable. She broke it first. " **DID YOU...DO YOU KNOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO BREATHE? LIKE...** ," she let out a tired laugh, **"IT'S SO _WEIRD_ NOT HAVING TO BREATHE. MY BRAIN KEEPS SAYING 'INARA YOU DUMBASS! _INHALE_!' BUT LIKE...I DON'T _NEED_ TO. SO I DON'T...** "

"Breathing is _weird_ ," TR8-C nodded, his hair brushing up against Inara's metal and wood chest. "Johnny's body needs it but I forget so sometimes I just...get _fuzzy_ around the edges?"

" **YIKES** ," Inara chuckled.

"Yeah," TR8-C laughed, sad, tired, angry, _tired_ , " _yikes_..."

Again, silence. It wasn't oppressive but...unwelcome. Unwanted. _Useless_.

" _How_ —" TR8-C began. He cut himself off with a shuddery hiccup. "How do I _protect_ you like this? How can—how can I do _my job_ if I'm so...so _fragile_?"

Inara started. TR8-C couldn't see her or her face but he could feel her arm tighten protectively around his shoulder. She squeezed him with a bit too much force, like a puppy unsure of its bite. " **YOU—YOU KNOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO PROTECT US ALL THE TIME, _RIGHT_? YOU'RE ALLOWED TO FEEL BAD AND BE BAD AT YOUR JOB AND FAIL SOMETIMES. _NO ONE'S_ PERFECT. NOT YOU, NOT ME, NOT JOHNNY, NOT EVEN SPEAKER WHATSHERNAME. _EVERYONE_ MESSES UP AND IT'S NOT RIGHT FOR YOU TO BEAT YOURSELF UP ABOUT IT. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S NOT EVEN YOUR FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE!** "

TR8-C watched his vision swim with morbid curiosity. _Tears_? Is that what tears looked like from this end?

(Broken. Throw it away again. Useless. No purpose. Broken. Broken. _Broken. **Broken**._ )

"I _know_ ," he sniffled.

(He _didn't_. It was his nature to be infallible. Impartial. A perfect lawman. But he was just broken and breaking and tired and _sad_. Done. A cracked bowl, unfit to hold even air.)

"It's _just_ —" he choked.

(A lawless law man. Long arm crippled by bone and flesh and muscle and tendons. Pumping blood in a broken heart. Age away to dust and coat what is in what was again. A pointless pointed knife in the hands of an ambitious assassin. Beyond a farce. _Inane_.)

"I don't know _how_ to—" he stammered.

(Shallow, hollow, a hallowed fallow farm for crows to pick. He screams and birds tear his heart to pieces. A piteous flesh, that it would fall to folly in such a finite way.)

" **LET US HELP**." Her smile was sincere. His heart caught in his chest. A wondrous feeling, trapped bird in a rib cage.

(A hand, extended, magic crackling. His hand. Johnny's. His now, by ways unknown. Before Fedopolis, before they met Inara, before the jailbirds and the wedding and the travel. A dusty town, a rusted chest, and a beating heart. Hope. Hope _ful_. _His home_.)

" **I KNOW THAT THERE'S NO WAY TO MAKE YOU NOT FEEL THIS WAY, BUT...WE CAN HELP. LET US TAKE SOME OF THE BURDEN SOMETIMES. YOU'RE MADE OF METAL, NOT SOME SORT OF...UNBREAKABLE OTHER MATERIAL...** " Her lit gaze turned to face him again and he laughed at her pinched expression. " **OH SHUT UP**."

"That didn't make _sense_!" Laughter, hysterical and relieved, replaced the shuddering pain in the pit of his stomach. "I _don't_ —why would you—what even did— _I_ —?!!"

She smiled down on him—but not down _at_ him—and he smiled back.

(Imperfect but not impossibly so. He can change. _Anyone_ can.)

"Thank you."

" **NO PROB BOB**."

"Don't say that with my voice."

" **I MAKE NO SUCH PROMISES**."

He breathed and it was—

(breathtaking)

**Author's Note:**

> It's just a body of years that I leave all alone  
> It's just a body of years, now a pile of bones  
> Like a sheet of veneer  
> Each a piece of my soul  
> Like a pile of shit I can't seem to forget  
> Just a body of years that I leave all alone


End file.
